


Under The Same Sun

by FeelsForBreakfast



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelsForBreakfast/pseuds/FeelsForBreakfast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Harry live 400 miles away from each other. Sometimes it’s hard. (internet boyfriends, indie bands, and happy endings)</p><p>“I already miss you. I miss you all the damn time.” Louis says, because it’s late enough for honesty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under The Same Sun

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this because Harry wrote Don't Let Me Go and the lovely telouvision prompted something involving pretty lights and alcohol and summer and I miss my girlfriend a lot lot lot. The title is from the Ben Howard song by the same name and it makes me cry a lot.

“I’m just really excited, you know? I can’t believe we’re doing a summer tour. It’s unreal.” Harry smiles up at him through the camera, his face blurry on the computer screen. It’s dark in his room, but the fairy lights cast him in golden light and make the ends of his curls glow. It’s too late for both of them to be up, the moon high in the sky and the clock ticking back into the single digits, but Harry is leaving tomorrow and Louis can’t hang up even though he’s practically falling asleep.

“It’s awesome.” Louis says, wishing he didn’t feel so cripplingly jealous. He has a summer job at the grocery store by his house and if he has to lift another case of bananas anywhere he’s going to lay on the ground and never move again. “You guys are honestly so great, everyone is going to love you.”

Harry nods excitedly, an enormous smile on his face. Louis doesn’t even think he knows how to smile like that, like he’s never felt anything but happy. “I’ll send you things, maybe postcards from different states? Or gas station knick knacks? They always sell those state themed magnets, don’t they?”

Louis laughs, pulling his blanket up around his shoulders. “I think they do. Corn for Illinois, cheese for Wisconsin. I think Liam has one from like, Indiana on his fridge.”

“So beautiful, so tasteful. Maybe I’ll write a heartfelt ballad about it.” He bursts into song, squeezing his eyes shut like he’s feeling the emotion. “STATE MAGNETS. ONE FOR EVERY STATTEEE, THIS STATEEE OF MIIIND.”

Louis buries his head in the nearest pillow. “I’m dumping you, I swear to God I’m dumping you.”

“Hey! I was singing you a beautiful song! That is no reason to dump me!” Harry protests, grinning at him through the screen. Sometimes Louis thinks skyping him makes it harder, because he can see Harry in the screen and hear him but they’re still four hundred miles apart and he still misses him so hard it makes his entire chest ache.

“A beautiful song? Really? Perhaps you should leave the songwriting to Zayn for the next album.” Louis says, schooling his face into something disapproving. It’s a hard expression to hold, especially when Harry won’t fucking stop smiling.

“You wound me.” Harry says, even though the look in his eyes is far from it. “I am absolutely wounded.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “So overdramatic.”

Harry just smiles back at him. “You should be getting a package in the mail a few days after I leave, by the way.”

“You know how I love presents.” Louis replies, a spark of happiness growing in his chest. He mostly just likes opening things and knowing it’s been where Harry is, tracing the loops of his handwriting even though it’s sappy. He’s hoping that maybe there will be a trace of him caught in the wrapping, some clue to what his body feels like and the way he smells. “What did you get me?”

Harry shakes his head, looking like a child with a secret. “I can’t tell you. It wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“But you already told me you got me something.” Louis replies, hoping he can finagle the details with a technicality. “So it’s not a surprise.”

“Yes but the present itself is a surprise. You can’t make me tell you.” Harry says, looking a little bit too pleased about the whole thing. 

“I told you about your bracelets.” Louis says. “I even let you pick the colors.”

Harry holds up his wrist, where two knotted bracelets rest among his collection of waterpark wristbands and miscellaneous jewelry. “And here I am wearing them. Doesn’t mean you get to know your present.”

Louis pouts, trying to be as cute as possible. “Please?”

Harry shakes his head. “Pretty pouty face won’t work on me. I’m immune.”

Louis screws up his face the best he can just to spite him. “You are not immune, you idiot.”

“Yes I am.” Harry replies, dimples in his cheeks when he smiles. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I already miss you. I miss you all the damn time.” Louis says, because it’s late enough for honesty. He and Harry talk nearly every day, texting and doing homework together over skype but they can’t fall asleep together or run errands or make each other breakfast in the morning and that hurts sometimes. 

Harry’s face falls, and Louis wishes he didn’t have to see him frown like that, that he could reach through the computer and push his lips into a smile again. He’s just glad that he can see him, that he can know that somewhere miles and miles away Harry is real and solid and loves him. It’s enough, and it’s all the have at the moment. “I miss you too. But it’s not going to be that different, I’ll text you, and message you when I have the chance.”

Louis nods. “You’re right, it’ll be fine. It’s not like we see each other in real life anyway.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Harry asks, sighing like he’s trying to push all the spiderwebs out of his lungs.

“Not really.” Louis burrows deeper in his blanket like that will get rid of the stupid empty place inside his ribs. “Maybe I can fly up and visit when you get back. Or at least get a ride up for the Chicago concert or something.”

Harry’s face gets some of its light back. “Yeah maybe. I’d like that.”

“I just won’t go to college. I’ll stay with you forever.” Louis says, a sad little smile making a home on his face.

“That’s a perfect plan.” Harry says. “I still want you to come on tour with me. Be a groupie.”

Louis shakes his head, wishing he didn’t have to be so logical all the time. He wants to, wants to say yes and run away with Harry and his stupid band and not have to face any other kind of world. “I wish. I have to... you know... future.”

Harry nods. “I just wanted to ask you one more time. I understand.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I wish this was easier.” Louis says, even though he supposes that if it were easier maybe he wouldn’t want it so much. It’s not perfect, it’s strange and horrible and sometimes it’s so intensely unfair that Louis wants to rip his lungs out, but he’d take it over never knowing Harry at all. He’d take anything over that.

“Me too. Distance is the worst.” Harry says, looking downcast and sleepy and Louis wants to kiss him so badly. He wishes he knew what it was like to kiss him, just once.

“It is.” Louis yawns widely, running a hand through his mess of hair. “It’s late.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” Harry replies.

“Do you ever?” Louis asks, because they both know the answer is no. They try to do it quick, like ripping off a bandaid so it doesn’t hurt as much. 

“Not particularly.” Harry admits. “Do you think, maybe, we could leave our laptops on and fall asleep together?”

Louis smiles, even though he feels all dark and broken and sad like he can barely stand it. “I’d probably knock mine onto the floor and break it, better not I think.”

Harry nods, snuggling deeper under his covers. “You’re right. I still want to.”

“How about this,” Louis begins, “We both turn off our cameras and go to sleep. And like, we won’t be together, but I can fall asleep thinking of you and you can fall asleep thinking of me. And like we’ll be really far away from each other but it’d be like we’re going to sleep together, kinda.”

“I like that idea.” Harry replies, in the soft voice that means he’s close to sleep already. “Goodnight, boo.”

Louis blows him a kiss. “Goodnight cupcake. I love you. Stupid amounts.”

Harry grins, blinking up at him with wide green eyes. “I love you stupid amounts too.”

There’s a moment where they both stare at each other through the screen, like they’re hoping the other one will hang up first, when Louis finally gives up and clicks disconnect.

He falls asleep knowing that somewhere miles and miles away, Harry is doing the same. It’s enough.

xx

Harry texts Louis four pictures before dinner time.

The first is of a monstrous white van that is apparently safe enough to take halfway across the country. Harry has dubbed the van Tabitha and assures Louis that she is a glorious, beautiful road beast. Louis has his doubts about glorious and beautiful, but he’ll let it slide since Harry tacked about five smiley faces onto the end of the text.

The second is a backlit shot of Zayn, their keyboard player, driving Tabitha and holding an enormous cup of dunkin donuts coffee with the caption ‘it’s so big that Niall started having an existential crisis.’

The third is a slightly blurry shot of cornfields and text reading ‘#farmpride #lovemesomecorn.’

The last one is a picture of Harry grinning into the camera. There’s no caption.

xx

Harry skypes him after their first concert, a cute little almost club in Des Moines they’d only booked because Harry is incredibly charming and their EP is actually pretty damn good. He’d been treated to a few dark pictures of the place, complete with the band holding up colorful drinks and one of Harry in a tiara. Louis decides he’s not going to ask.

It’s later than Louis would usually be up, especially with work in the morning, but it’s worth it to hear about Harry’s day in actual words. 

“It was awesome, we opened for this other band, Soft Speak Gradient? They were really good, but I feel like the crowd really liked us, it was so cool.” He’s buzzing, Louis can feel it through the screen, and he sips his green tea and tries to wake himself up. 

“That’s awesome, babe. I told you everything would be great.” Louis grins at him, giving him a thumbs up. “Did all the screaming fangirls ask for your autograph?”

Harry laughs, his hair flopping in his eyes. It’s getting long, all wild and curly and Louis wants to reach over and push it out of his eyes for him. “No. Day 1 and I am still not Justin Bieber.”

“What a shame, he’s a cutie.” Louis quips, even though he really prefers shaggy haired indie rockers any day of the week. 

Harry strikes a pose on his hotel bed. “What, am I not swaggie enough for you, Baby?”

Louis tries his best to stifle his laughter, hopes he isn’t about to wake his sisters in the process. “You’ll never be swaggie enough for me.”

“I can’t believe you just said those words. I cannot believe those words just came out of your mouth.” Harry says, giggles escaping before he can stop them. 

“You’re something else, Harry Styles.” Louis replies fondly. He thinks maybe this is going to work out okay after all, this Harry touring thing. It’s not like it’s that much different, he didn’t drop off the face of the earth, it’s just a few weeks of a little extra distance.

“Likewise, boo.” He says, finishing it with a ridiculous wink that completely derails any suavity he could have maybe pulled off. “Have you gotten my present yet?”

Louis shakes his head. “Soon I hope. Unless you want to tell me what it is?”

Harry mimes zipping up his lips and throwing away an invisible key. “You’ll find out when it comes.”

Louis lets out a long exaggerated sigh. “I would have told you by now.”

“You just can’t keep secrets.” Harry replies, giving him a warm smile. “You’d keep it from me, except it would make you crazy.”

“Oh and you can keep secrets, that’s comforting.” Louis says with a pout.

Harry shakes his head. “Don’t be like that, I just like surprising you. You’re fun to surprise because you get all irritable.”

Louis lets out a long sigh. “You’re maybe the worst.”

“You don’t think that.”

Louis smiles at him. “Of course I don’t.”

xx

Louis finds his present on the kitchen table two days later. He cuts through the frankly stupid amount of tape with a pair of dull scissors, getting it open only after completely demolishing the box. Inside, is a bright blue tee shirt with _Electric Field Day_ , the name of Harry’s band, printed across the front, a note resting on top.

_Hope it fits, I got the lead singer to sign it for you xx_

Louis holds it up, finding Harry’s crisp signature on the left sleeve. He rolls his eyes, tracing his fingers over the handwriting with a smile. He holds it up to his face before he can really think about the action. He hadn’t really expected it to smell like Harry, but he stills finds himself a the tiniest bit disappointed when there’s only cotton.

Setting down the scissors, he pulls off his tank top and slips the shirt over his head, liking the way the soft fabric hangs a bit long on him. He texts Harry, ‘ _just got your present, it’s perfect_ ’ and a picture of himself in the mirror, and is rewarded by two pages of smiley faces.

xx

The next time they skype Harry is a little bit drunk. He knows because a month after they’d first decided to have a go at boyfriends the two of them has gotten their hands on alcohol and drunk blogged together. It makes his cheeks a little pinker and his words drag and it really makes Louis want to kiss him slow.

“They let us drink at the bar.” He says, all bright eyes. “I guess in Nevada it doesn’t matter if you’re underage as long as you’re with the band.”

“Good show then?” Louis asks, wearing the shirt Harry bought him upon request. He hasn’t really taken it off much since he got it, though he’s not going to tell Harry that, because he is most definitely not the sort of person who pines or mopes over far away boyfriends.

He nods enthusiastically, sitting in Tabitha’s enormous backseat. He has the laptop in his lap, and Louis can see the yellow light of a fast food joint in the background, no doubt the source of Harry’s wifi. “Great, great, some people were singing our lyrics back to us at this one, it’s unreal, just crazy unreal.”

“That’s so cool. I said you’d get famous, Haz.” Louis replies, feeling suddenly so far away from Harry it makes his entire head hurt. It’s not fair to either of them really, this long distance thing. Harry deserves to really go somewhere with his band, to date cute groupies and fuck hot people after shows. He shouldn’t be wasting his time skyping Louis in the backseat of his van while everyone else gets drunk. 

“I don’t want famous.” Harry replies. “I just want people to like my music? You know? I want my music to make people feel things.”

Louis nods. He remembers when Harry sent him the first song they ever recorded, the way it made him feel like he was listening to something special and beautiful. He thinks part of falling in love with Harry was listening to his voice spill out the way he felt on that track. “Everyone is going to love you, Harry. It would be impossible for them not to.”

Harry blushes in the warm light. “I hope so, man I fucking hope so. This is all a gamble, this music thing? Like, what if we fail?”

Louis shakes his head, crossing his arms over his stomach because he can’t hold Harry and so it’s really the best he has. “You won’t. No way.”

Harry smiles. “You’re the best, Lou. I miss you.”

Louis nods, giving Harry the best smile he can. “I miss you too, Harry.”

A pounding on one of the windows interrupts their conversation. Harry turns the computer, giving Louis a view of Niall and Josh with their faces pressed to the glass. Louis waves at them, receiving two cheery grin in return as the blonde boy opens up the door with a heave. “You should get some food, mate. You’ll be sad if you don’t eat before we head out.”

Harry looks sadly down at Louis, then back at Niall and Josh, pointing at the computer screen with a sad finger. “But I’m talking to Lou.”

Louis works his face into a smile, wishing he didn’t feel so jealous and sad inside. “Go eat, I’ll still be here.”

“But it’s time for you to go to sleep, you shouldn’t wait up.” Harry says, his expression conflicted. 

“Don’t feel bad, you need food. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Harry nods, giving him a smile and blowing him a kiss. “Love you, see you tomorrow.”

Louis leans in to kiss the camera, giving Harry one last smile. “Love you too, goodnight.”

It’s a long time before he falls asleep.

xx

A small package shows up at his door two days later, a small assortment of cheesy magnets inside. There’s a corn cob, a cow, one shaped like california, one that says ‘ _moose crossing_ ’ and another that says ‘ _what happens in vegas stays in vegas_ ,’ accompanied by a polaroid of Harry kissing Tabitha’s hood. 

Written on the back is ‘ _please hang this masterpiece on your fridge with these beautiful magnets._ ’

Louis sticks the magnets all over the fridge, arranging them like the big dipper. He keeps the picture for himself, propping it up by his mirror so he can see it when he wakes up in the mornings. 

xx

It’s hard, but it works, in a disjointed sort of way. They’ve lost a bit of the rhythm they had going when they only lived six hours away from each other, as opposed to Harry spending his days rolling through small american towns and further away from Louis. Tabitha and the band have made it to the west coast now, playing tiny clubs they’d booked over the phone and through Harry’s hipstery music friends.

Louis just wishes he could shake the guilt that won’t stop building up in his stomach. He feels stupid about all of it, about being jealous, about being sad, about keeping Harry from whatever rockstar things the lead singer of an up and coming band should be doing. 

It’s just hard, when he can’t bring himself to text Harry back. He doesn’t want to seem like he’s just waiting around for him, can’t stop reminding himself that Harry’s amazing and he’s never really going to deserve him. 

He has this growing fear that he’s going to wake up one morning and see pictures of Harry kissing someone else, that he’s going to stop texting and Louis is going to be left with nothing but old messages and an EP he can’t listen to.

xx

“Is everything okay?” Harry asks from the sidewalk of the hotel in Arizona, after being kicked out of his hotel room by Zayn and some girl. Louis can see sweat gathering on his brow as he leans back against the brickwork, likes the way the humidity gives his hair just a little extra curl.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be fine?” Louis asks, cuddling up in his covers. Harry looks good, all tangled necklaces and big concerned eyes and Louis hates himself more than he previously realized he could. He doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore, if he wants Harry to move on to better things or if he wants to fly out to Arizona and make sure no one ever touches Harry again.

Harry shrugs, and he looks so hurt Louis wants to die. “You just seem distant. You haven’t been replying to my texts, I’ve been missing you.”

Louis shrugs, wondering if he looks as guilty as he feels. “I’ve just been busy, you know how it is. I’m sorry, babe.”

Harry nods, his mouth in a sad, determined little line. “It’s not something I did, is it?”

Louis shakes his head vehemently, every word tearing him up a little more. “Of course not, I just don’t want you to worry about me, alright? Have fun! You’re on tour with your awesome band!” He wonders if Harry can see through his cheery front, hopes to God he can’t. 

Harry gives him a small smile, looking only moderately reassured. “I can’t stop worrying about you. I love you stupid amounts, remember?”

Louis nods. “Of course I remember. But you don’t need to worry, I’m not wasting away or anything.”

“I know. I just want you to know I care about you. I feel like it’s just something I need to say.” He shrugs, curling in on himself like he’s sorry. Louis feels a sudden stab of guilt, wishing he knew how to make this a clean cut. It’s not that he doesn’t love Harry, he loves him more than anything in the entire fucking universe, but knows he’s never going to be enough for him, not really. It’ll hurt less this way, if he’s the one who leaves.

“That’s really sweet of you, but don’t worry, I know.” Louis smiles, hiding his face with his tea mug. “Tell me about the show. Thousands of screaming girls?”

Louis can see it as Harry lightens up a little, the tension falling from his shoulders. “Nah, nothing like that. This one was a little smaller, more intimate. It was really nice actually. We weren’t opening so everyone was here for us.”

“I’m so proud of you.” He says, finding it’s genuine when it leaves his mouth. He really wants them to succeed, Harry and his band and their stupid van. Their music is just so beautiful, the harmonies when Harry and Zayn sing together, the quicker songs that swell in the middle and the quiet song at the end of the album that makes him feel less lonely. 

Harry smiles, the real one that’s somehow softer on his face than his other expressions, the one where his eyes go bright and everything else drops away. “Thanks. This is all just so much, it’s so amazing.”

He knows then that he’s not going to be able to keep Harry forever, that the world deserves him more than Louis does. 

xx

He moves the polaroid of Harry down from his mirror and puts it at the bottom of his desk drawer because looking at it makes him feel guilty.

Not seeing it makes him feel guiltier, but he can’t bring himself to put it back up.

xx

He gets a text at two AM, two hours after he’d told Harry over skype that he was going to try and get to sleep. It’s a picture message, a shot of the sky so full of stars they show up on the tiny iphone camera. There are only five words attached.

_I wish you were here._

Louis stares at it until his vision starts to blur, typing out a response before he can think too hard about it. 

_send me a star_

xx

The next night he falls asleep curled around his laptop waiting for Harry to skype him, waking up the next morning with three missed calls and a lethargy that won’t seem to leave his body. He texts Harry an apology, but can’t shake the feeling that everything is falling apart beneath him.

He knows that if you love something you have to let it go, but he thinks maybe he’s letting parts of himself go, can’t quite figure out where the pieces of Harry end and he begins.

He thinks maybe he’ll give himself away too, so he has nothing left to leave him.

xx

Harry sends him a picture from the stage, a blurry shot of the crowd, and he can almost hear the sound echoing in the small space, the buzz of amps and the way Harry’s voice still cracks sometimes. 

He wishes loving Harry didn’t hurt so much.

xx

He finally talks to Harry the day after their Austin show, skyping him just after he wakes up, sleep bleariness making him sad and needy. He just wants to cuddle Harry, to wake up next to him one fucking time. He wants to know how he breathes when he’s asleep, wants to wake him up with careful kisses and push him around the kitchen while he makes the fry ups he’s always bragging about. 

“I miss you so much. I fucking hate this.” Louis says, feeling too dark for the warm summer morning. 

Harry nods, looking a little bit worse for wear. “I’m so tired. I hate hotel beds. Zayn snores. You don’t snore do you?”

“Of course not.” Louis assures him. “You can come sleep in my bed. It’s comfortable.”

Harry nods. “Yes please. The worst is when we have to sleep in Tabitha. Seats are good for sitting, bad bad bad for sleeping.”

Louis smiles before he can help it. “You’re such a baby in the mornings, I forgot.”

“I’m not a baby. I just want to cuddle you. A lot.” Harry says, curling over the pillow in his lap. Louis knows he shouldn’t indulge himself, that he can’t let Harry in like this, but he can’t help himself. He’s so tired and all he wants is to press his head up against Harry’s chest and never think.

“I know, cupcake. When I get enough money to visit you can cuddle me.” Louis assures him. 

“Do you think you can come to the Chicago show? It’s only a two hour car ride from where you are, right? It would mean a lot to me.” Harry says, looking up at him through dark lashes, playing with the bracelets on his wrist. Louis can see his there, just the smallest bit faded. He wonders if Harry has taken them off since he sent them, and knows in his heart he hasn’t.

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Things are a bit tight around here right now, I would if I could.” It’s the truth, but that’s not all of it. He can’t go see Harry at his show because if he ever holds Harry he won’t be able to let him go, won’t be able to make the clean cut. He wants to though, so badly he almost can’t stand it, wants to hear Harry sing without the distortion of the computer speakers, wants to be able to watch him move and look at him and understand that he’s real.

“That’s okay. I understand. I just wish you could go. I want to see you.” He says, looking completely crestfallen. “Maybe I could just drive by your house. Just see you. For an hour.”

Louis shakes his head. “Wouldn’t that be worse? To see you for just an hour? I wouldn’t...” He trails off. _I wouldn’t be able to let you go._

“Yeah. It would. I just.” He looks down, then back up and Louis realizes he’s trying not to cry, wishes that didn’t hit him so hard. “It’s not fair, you know?”

Louis nods, breathing in the warm summer air. It’s sunny where Harry is too, almost like they aren’t far from each other at all, close underneath the same sky. “I know. It’s the least fair thing in the world.”

“Better than if we’d never met at all.” Harry says finally. “I mean, this is shit, it’s so fucking shit. But if it had happened any other way it wouldn’t be the same, you know? And I wouldn’t give that up for anything.”

“Me neither.” Louis takes a deep breath, letting it out in one quick burst. “I love you.”

Harry nods, slow and easy like it’s obvious. Louis thinks maybe it has been, that he’s just been too stupid to realize it. “I love you too. More than anything.”

“I know.”

“Please try to make it to the show.” Harry says quietly, and Louis realizes that there is no clean cut anymore, that he can’t hurt himself without hurting Harry and he doesn’t know what to do with that. 

“I’ll try.” He says, before he can think it through, before he can rationalize all the things that Harry deserves that aren’t him.

Harry nods, a small smile on his face. It’s enough.

xx

He gets a postcard later that day from California, a bear drawn on the back in blue sharpie. Underneath are the words ‘ _it’s you! Get it, boo bear?’_

Louis puts it in his next to the polaroid and he can’t stand himself.

xx

Harry calls him again when he’s in St. Louis just as Louis is making his evening cuppa, so Louis rests his laptop on the counter and stands waiting for the kettle to boil.

“We dragged Zayn up in the arch, it was awesome, he almost threw a fit.” Harry says, childish excitement in his eyes. “Everything looks tiny from so high, it was like we were looking down on one of those little models of cities, you know?”

“That’s cool.” Louis says, reaching up to grab a box of tea from the shelf. “Poor Zayn.”

“He survived, but he’s driving extra slow just to piss Niall off. The arch was his idea.” Harry says, looking cheerful as he sits cross legged in his hotel bed. His hair is even more unruly than it was at the beginning of the trip, and he’s taken to trying to stick it upwards to deal with it.

“You look like you have a possum on your head. Has anyone told you that?” Louis says, watching the kettle. 

Harry laughs, that barking thing he does when Louis surprises him. “Surprisingly, no. I thought it was part of my indie rock charm.”

“It’s charming. It also reminds me of a large rodent. I’m pretty sure your hair is going to separate from your head and become its own animal. A mini-hair-styles.”

Harry giggles, flattening his hair against his head. “Leave my hair alone. It’s a perfectly respectable possum.”

Louis rolls his eyes, pouring the steaming water into his mug. He doesn’t bother waiting for it to boil, sticking with lukewarm tea so he doesn’t have to wait for it to cool off. It always annoys his friend Liam, who believes that tea is a sacred art form. He’s also a little bit crazy. “No self respecting possum would nest on your head.”

“You don’t know that.” Says Harry, a pout on his face. 

“Oh I do.” Louis says, the conversation dropping into silence for a moment in a way that makes it hard for Louis to breathe. He wishes everything weren’t so complicated, that he could figure out what he wanted for more than ten fucking minutes. He loves Harry and he knows Harry loves him but it isn’t that easy for them. Sometimes he thinks that even for all the talk it could never really work, that they’re always going to be whispering promises across computer screens. 

He’s never even met Harry in person before, he’s half terrified that he won’t be everything and half terrified he’ll be more than that. It’s like he’s filled up with too many things, worry in his veins instead of blood, because he could never really be allowed happiness, could never really be allowed Harry.

“I have to go to bed, Haz. I’m really tired.” Louis says, taking a small sip of his tea and trying not to feel guilty. 

Harry’s face falls, everything bright in it rushing out, and Louis wonders if he was ever really happy in the first place, if he was just pretending for Louis’ sake. “I’ve been writing a new song.” He says quietly, picking at the hem on the blanket.

“That’s nice. What’s it about?” Louis says, because Harry hasn’t written since the last EP, waiting for something beautiful, something that meant something, he’d said. 

He shrugs. “I want to play it at the Chicago gig.”

“Oh.” Louis says, the air leaving his body. “Maybe, I, yeah. Okay.”

“You aren’t coming, are you?” Harry says quietly, and he’s breaking too and Louis can feel an oil spill creeping up around them, filling his lungs with poison and pulling them under.

“I don’t know. I’ll try.” Louis says, even though everything is impossible and he can’t go for too many reasons and Harry knows that. 

“Please.”

They talk a little more after that, small things like where Zayn insisted they go for lunch that day and what Niall bought at the last gas station they stopped at. The last thing Harry says, after the goodnights and the I love yous is one more quiet ‘please.’

It’s never going to be enough.

xx

Louis is curled up on Liam’s couch, a comforter wrapped around him even though it’s the middle of summer, watching Clueless and hiding from his phone, his life, and Harry.

He has his head in Liam’s lap, and Liam is running his fingers through his hair and not asking him why he’s upset. On screen, Cher is realizing she has a crush on the boy Louis is 90% sure is her brother. These are good developments, and if he doesn’t think about anything else he’ll be fine.

Liam’s phone buzzes in his pocket and Louis refuses to move as Liam tries to shift him out of the way so he can pull it out. 

“Lou?” He says after a moment. “Why are you ignoring Harry?”

Louis covers his head with the blanket. He is a caterpillar forming an impenetrable cocoon around himself and will emerge a beautiful butterfly when all of his problems have forgotten about him. “Why do you have Harry’s number?”

“We talk. Sometimes. About stuff. You.” Liam says, peeling his blanket cocoon back and looking at him with big heartbroken brown eyes. “He’s sad about it. Is this why we’re watching bad 90s chick flicks? Did he do something?”

Louis shakes his head. “No.”

“Do you want to talk?” Liam asks, combing at his hair with soft fingers. Louis wonders what Harry’s fingers would feel like in his hair. He wonders what Harry’s fingers would feel like other places and abruptly wants to die. 

“Not even a little bit.”

Liam shakes his head. “Well we’re talking about it.”

Louis lets out an irritated groan. “Liam no.”

“Louis yes.” Liam says. He won’t get that look off his face, the one that’s so concerned and upset and it’s making Louis feel even guiltier than he did before, which is interesting because he didn’t really think he could feel worse about the situation.

“I already feel terrible about everything, Li. I don’t want to talk about it.” Louis says, fixating his eyes on the screen with a frown.

“Well maybe if you talk about it you’ll feel better.” Liam replies, because he lives in a world where everything turns out okay, a world where Louis and Harry can be 400 miles away and still end up together.

“Or I’ll start crying and not be able to stop, one of the two.” Louis grumbles, burying his face in the blanket. He hates crying in front of people, hates the way it makes him feel terrible and ugly and hates the way it makes other people look at him like he’s breakable. 

“Louis.” Liam says in a sharp voice, his hands still gentle in Louis’ hair. “I’m not letting you sabotage this. I’m not letting you.”

“Why are you accusing me of sabotaging this? It’s not like I ruin everything I touch. It’s not.” It is, it always feels like it is, but Liam knows how Louis feels about bringing that up and it’s not fair. 

“You haven’t ruined anything.” Liam says tiredly. “Please don’t be difficult with me. I just know what you’re like, Lou.”

“And what the fuck am I like Liam?” Louis asks, bitter and ruined and so, so tired.

“You get scared of things. And you think too much. You tell yourself things can’t work because you don’t know what you’d do if they did.” He says quietly, and Louis knows it’s true but he doesn’t know how to not be afraid of things, because he’s been told his entire life that he has to do things a certain way and Harry never fit those plans. 

Harry wasn’t going to college, he wasn’t getting a nine to five job and starting a nice family with a dog and a station wagon. Harry was the blip that was never supposed to be so important. He was the one thing in Louis’ life that didn’t line up, and the one that mattered the most.

“I don’t know what to do.” Louis says quietly. “It’s impossible for us.”

Liam shakes his head. “No it’s not. You’re both legal adults. You can do whatever you want.”

“No I can’t. I have parents. They have expectations.” Louis says, ignoring the way his stomach clenches when he thinks about the future, about life after high school and dealing with things he has no idea how to deal with.

“I know, and I’m not saying you should fuck off and go live in the forest for the next forty years. But like, it’s your life.” He says, smiling down at Louis like maybe it’s easy. “You love him and he loves you too. You can’t just give that up for expectations.”

“When did you get so wise?” Louis asks, hitting Liam halfheartedly in the leg with the hand not wrapped up in the fleece blanket.

“I’ve always been wise.” Liam says with a smile. “You just never listen to me.”

“I listen to you all the damn time Liam Payne. I am the only person on this Earth who will ever listens to anything you say. I was listening the time you told me you were a fancy scented candle, don’t you tell me I don’t listen to you!” 

Liam laughs. “I can always tell when you’re not sad anymore because you start attacking me on a personal level.”

“I mean it in a nice way.” Louis says, turning over and smiling up at Liam. “Thanks though. I mean, for being nice and things.”

Liam smiles down at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m always available to be nice and things. I’m going to text Harry and tell him to stop being a worrier and that everything is fine. Is everything fine?”

“I don’t know.” Louis replies, because it’s the truth, because life is hard and he doesn’t have a car he can drive up to Chicago no matter how much he wants to go. “Liam, can I ask you a favor. Like a big favor?”

“Absolutely not.” Liam replies, tapping him on the nose. 

Louis resists the urge to roll his eyes. “If there was a way for me to see Harry, would you help me?”

Liam nods enthusiastically, his face going so earnest Louis wants to tackle him to the ground and hug him forever. “Of course, what do you need? I mean you know I don’t have a bunch of money but like whatever I can do.”

“I’m not asking you for money, I just need a ride. To a thing. In Chicago.” Louis says, sitting up and pulling the blanket around him. “I can pay for gas, but I don’t have a car.”

Liam smiles, nodding his head even before Louis has given him the details. “Don’t worry about gas. Give me a time and a date and we’ll go, yeah?”

There’s something light in Louis’ chest that’s making him feel buoyant and hopeful and he decides he likes this so much better than the worry. There’s fear there too, he thinks it’s never really going to leave, but for once he feels like he’s going in the right direction. “It’s Harry’s concert. I didn’t think I was going to be able to go, you know, with money and transportation stuff.”

Liam’s entire face lights up to the point where Louis is actually a little bit worried that he’s going to physically explode from excitement. “But now you can go! You have to surprise him. When is the concert?”

“Two days.”

“Ok. Well we won’t tell him you’re going for sure, make it sound like it won’t happen and then surprise him.” Liam says, bouncing a little bit in his seat. “I’m so excited oh my god this is going to be perfect.”

Louis smiles over at him fondly. “Liam Payne, you really are the fanciest scented candle.”

Liam beams. “I don’t know what I meant by that, but I still think it sounds really nice.”

Louis laughs, leaning up against Liam and turning his gaze back to the movie. “Thanks though. You know, for real.”

Liam shrugs, tipping his head against Louis’. “That’s what friends are for.”

xx

There’s traffic, so when they finally make it inside the club it’s crowded and people are milling around the tiny stage, plugging in chords and such, just a few minutes from showtime. Louis tugs at his jeans, wishing he’d just stayed in sweats. “I feel so uncomfortable. I look stupid. My ass looks so stupid in these jeans. I regret everything I’ve ever done.”

Liam gives him a look. “You look literally fine. Harry isn’t going to care what you’re wearing.”

“You don’t know that, Liam.” Louis does a few quick little hops, trying to expunge all the nervous energy locked up inside his body. “I’m literally so fucking nervous I’m going to explode.”

“Louis.” Liam grabs him by the shoulders, tilting his chin up and looking him in the eye. “Everything is fine. You’re here, he’s going to see you and you’re going to see him and it’s going to be a fucking Disney movie.”

Louis nods, breathing in and out as slowly as he can, trying to slow his racing heart. “Everything is fine.” 

“Of course it is.” Liam nods, reaching to ruffle Louis’ hair and then evidently thinking better of it. “I’ll be right here the whole time.”

Louis nods, keeping his eyes fixed on the stage as the lights go down a bit, a few people in the crowded bar whooping as they do. Louis holds his breath, his lungs feeling so full already. He reaches for Liam’s arm, squeezing it a little bit too hard as Niall, Josh, and Zayn emerge from a back room, chatting amongst themselves as they head onstage.

He watches as the door opens again, Harry emerging with a wave to the crowd as he follows the other other boys up. He moves in a way that never quite translated over skype, like he’d grown up too fast and hadn’t quite learned to use all of his limbs yet. He’s entrancing and even more beautiful under the lights of the stage that shine just bright enough to highlight the planes of his face and Louis needs to hear his voice, needs to hear him and understand that he’s not just a face on a screen.

He jogs up to the microphone in the middle, waving to the crowd like he’s a rockstar who does this every night. He was made for this, Louis realizes, his smile the brightest thing in the room. He can see Harry scanning the crowd, wonders if he’s looking for him, wonders what he’ll do if their eyes meet. It’s easier when Harry can’t see him, when he can just watch and take in and memorize the way Harry’s body fits together.

“Hello Chicago.” He says into the microphone, slow words that seem more intimate than anything, like he’s drawing everyone in instead of pushing his music out to them. “Nice to see everyone looking so lovely. We’re Electric Field Day and we’re going to play you a few songs before Sharpless go on. I hope that’s alright?”

Some girls in the front yell and he smiles. “Alright then, this is a track off our first EP, Morning Songs.”

Louis squeezes Liam’s arm harder, hoping he isn’t strong enough to cut off Liam’s circulation because he doesn’t think he has the power to let go. This is Harry. Harry is here in the same room as Louis and they’re finally breathing the same air and he’s going to sing and Louis is so happy he can’t stand it. No matter what happens afterward, even if they never see each other after tonight, there’s a sort of peace in knowing that he’s always going to have this moment.

Zayn starts playing the opening chords, Niall joining him with the melody on his acoustic, and Louis hums along because he could sing this song in his sleep. Harry told him one night when they’d stayed up too late talking that he’d wrote it about them, about waking up next to someone you loved. That he wanted to wake up next to Louis just once.

Louis wonders if Harry is thinking about him now, if when Harry’s sings it he’s still singing it to him. He hopes so.

Louis can feel the build in the instrumental, knows that Harry is about to come in for the first verse and forgets how to breathe. Harry looks down before he sings, leaning into the microphone like it’s his lover, his face so sincere it hurts. Harry is like that, all emotion and big dreams and Louis used to wish he had that much energy inside himself, to wish he could learn to feel that much. Standing here as Harry’s voice cuts through the music he feels everything hit him like a train, can barely stand because he feels like screaming and crying and laughing until it’s all he remembers how to do.

It’s like the most vivid kind of dream, like everything he never thought he could imagine because Harry is perfect and amazing and Louis believes in everything he thought he couldn’t. 

“You okay?” Liam asks, easing Louis’ hand from his arm, smiling when Louis nods, grinning at him so wide his mouth hurts.

“I’d convinced myself he couldn’t be real.” Louis says to him over the din. 

Liam just ruffles his hair, and for once Louis can’t even be bothered to hit him in retaliation.

The set passes in a blur of Harry smiling and singing and looking into the crowd like maybe he’s looking for Louis. It seems like barely a moment before he’s pulling a stool from the back of the stage and sitting down on it, resting his feet on the second rung like a child. “Thanks everyone, you’ve been fantastic. I just have one more song for you, I hope you don’t mind. It’s a little rusty, I only just wrote it, but it’s for someone very special to me who I don’t think made it here tonight.” He looks down, taking a deep breath and tapping the microphone against his knee. “This is for you. I love you stupid amounts, Boo.”

Someone in the audience awwws and Louis is fairly sure his organs have all decided to cram themselves into his throat. And then the song is starting, the piano bringing Harry in, slow and soft and beautiful.

He’s going to start crying, he can feel it even before Harry reaches the chorus, covering his mouth with his hands and ducking his chin into his chest. It’s so much, Harry is so much, and he didn’t know it was possible to love someone this much ever.

People in the front are raising their phones over their heads and swaying as the chorus comes around and it’s the cheesiest fucking thing he’s ever seen and he’s lost track of Liam and his eyes won’t stop tearing up and every time Harry says ‘don’t let me go’ Louis feels like he’s being punched in the chest because all of this is for him, for them. 

Harry sings like it’s the most important thing in the world, squeezing his eyes shut so he can sing the chorus with his entire body. Louis has to keep reminding himself that he’s really here, that he’s not watching a video and this isn’t a dream.

He isn’t sure how he ended up with tears on his face but they’re definitely there and they’re definitely his and he knows he doesn’t want to be alone anymore. He wants to be with Harry for as long as Harry will have him. 

It’s only when Harry looks across the crowd again that Louis realizes Harry might be crying too, that sometime between the first verse and this bridge his eyes have gone all glassy. Harry’s voice catches on the chorus and by the time he sings ‘tired of sleeping alone’ Louis has stopped breathing to make sure he hears it.

Harry clears his throat, wiping his eyes and giving the crowd a tiny little smile. “That got emotional a bit fast.”

There’s a small ripple of laughter and Harry smiles out at them. “We’re Electric Field Day, thankyou for listening.”

There’s a beat between Harry’s last word and the moment the crowd starts cheering and in that small moment of silence Louis hears a familiar voice behind him calling a familiar name, Liam jumping up and waving one of his hands high.

“Harry!”

Everything seems to slow down for a moment as Harry turns to look in the direction of the sound, his eyes searching all the way to the back and landing on Louis, who waves with one hand, trying to discreetly wipe his eyes with the other and failing miserably judging by the size of Harry’s grin. 

He raises the microphone back up his mouth. “In case anyone was wondering, he made it.”

Louis hides behind his hands, peering through his fingers to see Harry put the microphone back on the stand and slide off the front of the stage. The crowd parts for him and Louis couldn’t move to save his life, Harry the only thing left in his mind. He’s going to touch him, he’s going to get to put his hands in his hands and breathe him in and that’s everything he really wanted anyway. 

Harry lopes toward him like he’s nervous, eyes cast down and then up again, like he wants to look but is afraid Louis is going to disappear. It seems for a moment like they’re never going to touch, before they’re standing face to face and Louis is reaching up to hold Harry’s face and their foreheads are touching and Harry is frantically whispering that he didn’t think Louis was going to come and Louis is kissing him before he can say any more words.

It’s magic and Harry is warm like campfires and Louis has coals where his heart should be because he’s burning up in the best way, both of them alight like binary stars. He pushes his hands up into Harry’s mess of curls and Harry’s hands cover his back and Louis never really understood how much bigger Harry was, how his entire body curls around him like he was made to fit there.

Louis can hear people cheering and he doesn’t know if it’s for them because he can’t focus on much more than the way Harry smells like mint and cinnamon and sweat and Louis wants to wrap himself up in it. 

They only break apart when Louis feels so lightheaded he thinks he might pass out in Harry’s arms and the next band has started to take the stage and Louis thinks maybe this is the craziest thing he’s ever done, that when he’s old and remembers this moment it’s going to seem like the most incredible thing in the world. 

“Do you want to watch the band?” Harry asks, and all Louis can fathom is how much greener his eyes are in person. 

“I want to be with you.” Louis says, smiling when Harry does, going up on his tip toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

Harry nods, taking one of Louis’ small hands in his bigger ones, tugging him out the doors and around to the back. It’s chilly outside after the heat of the club, the evening chill creeping into their bones, but Louis thinks he’d be willing to tolerate much worse things as long as Harry doesn’t let go of his hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Harry asks, nearly tripping over a pothole because he keeps looking back at Louis.

“Liam thought it would be a good surprise.” Louis replies, squeezing his hand and pressing himself up against Harry’s side for warmth. 

“Liam is devious, isn’t he? He looks so innocent in his profile picture.” Harry says with a laugh, leading them through the parking lot to where Tabitha is parked. 

“Very devious. But no one ever suspects him.” Louis replies, relinquishing Harry’s hand so he can open up the doors, the both of them climbing into the backseat. 

Harry fishes two blankets out of the back, throwing one at Louis and wrapping the other one around his shoulders. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Louis wraps the big red blanket around him, pushing his hands out of the mess of fabric to take Harry’s. They’re so warm, long fingers and big palms and Louis never wants to stop touching them. “I’m glad I’m here too. I’m sorry I was being stupid before.”

He shrugs. “I was mostly just afraid you were going to leave me before I’d had the change to hold you.”

Louis traces the lines on Harry’s hands, fingertips pressing into his heartline. “I was terrified you were going to leave me. I’d convinced myself it couldn’t work because of distance and everything.”

“You aren’t afraid of that anymore?” Harry asks, his lips still so pink from the kiss, every part of him too real for Louis to believe. 

“I still am. But I love you and that’s more important.” Louis says, soaking in Harry’s aura and everything else that doesn’t really translate through a screen.

“I love you too.”

Louis smiles, leaning to bop their noses together. “Stupid amounts.”

Harry smiles. “Of course.”

“I like, you know, talking to you, but,” Louis reaches up, pushing Harry’s hair out of his eyes, “Would it be alright if I touched you more?”

Harry doesn’t answer, just leans in for a kiss. Louis sheds his blanket, crawling into Harry’s lap and clutching him closer by the collar of his tee shirt. Harry lets him, big hands creeping underneath Louis’ tee shirt and pressing into the soft parts of Louis’ hips.

“My imagination didn’t really do you justice.” Harry whispers against Louis’ ear, a smile in his tone. The air around them feels warmer and Harry is the most gorgeous person Louis has ever seen but there’s also something simple and joyous in the way Harry kisses Louis like they have forever, like it’s the only thing he’s ever really wanted to do.

Louis pulls back, resting his hands on the hem of his tee shirt and pulling it off his head before he can wonder if that’s where this is going. Harry shifts him back, big hands on his thighs and this is definitely going somewhere because Louis doesn’t think he could stop if he wanted to.

Harry shucks his tee shirt and throws it somewhere in the vicinity of the front seat and leans down to kiss Louis’ neck, soft lips against his skin until all Louis can do is hold on to Harry’s shoulders and try to hold himself together.

“Are we really doing this?” He asks, rolling his hips and digging his fingernails into Harry’s shoulders for stability. He’s so solid underneath him, all hot skin and quick breaths and it’s so much all at once.

“Pretty sure we are.” Harry says, a sneaky little smile on his lips. 

Louis giggles into his mouth, grinding up against him. “Better than skype sex. That was terrible.”

Harry laughs, ducking his face against Louis’ shoulder and palming him through his jeans. “Stop talking.”

Louis manages to fight down the moan building in his chest, frotting down against Harry’s hand. “Message received.” He pants, bringing his hands up into Harry’s hair so he can pull him closer. It’s a little bit awkward in the small space but he can’t really find room to care when he gets to touch Harry, to learn all the curves of his body and memorize them for later.

Harry kisses him harder, and it really shouldn’t be this hot but Harry is so warm and he’s wanted this for so long. It’s better than he thought it would be and he shouldn’t be this close already but Harry is such a good kisser and he has one hand down the back of Louis’ pants and its not fucking fair. 

“Slow down.” Louis whispers against Harry’s mouth, pulling away for a moment to get his breath back, tracing his hands down Harry’s chest and unbuttoning his jeans. “This okay?”

Harry nods, grabbing one of Louis’ hands with his own, and not letting go even though it makes it a lot harder to get his pants off. Louis pulls his boxers down, getting Harry’s cock out and resting their clasped hands against Harry’s thigh. “It’s, yeah, it’s okay.”

Louis smiles up at him, leaning down to take him into his mouth, sucking him to hardness. He knows how good he is at this, feels a rush of pleasure at the way Harry clutches at his fingers, his other hand running through Louis’ hair. 

“Jesus, Lou.” He says softly, something like reverence in his voice, and Louis wants to make this wonderful for him, wants him to fall apart.

He teases the head with his tongue, blowing at the tip and then taking him back into his mouth, trying to figure out what he wants, how to make him tremble.

Louis goes further, liking the way Harry shakes as he takes him as deep as he can. Harry shifts his hips upwards just the smallest bit, thrusting into Louis’ mouth even though Louis knows he’s trying to be gentle. Louis flicks his eyes up, catching Harry’s green ones in the low light and blinking up at him, trying to memorize the way Harry’s looking at him.

He thrusts carefully into Louis’ mouth, taking care of him in a way that makes Louis’ entire body feel warm. Louis can feel him going unsteady, the way he can’t quite stop from shaking, small noises falling from his lips. He’s so hard already, fumbles with his own buttons but can’t seem to summon enough coordination to do much more than palm at himself through his jeans.

“You’re so pretty.” Harry murmurs, tracing a hand across Louis’ hollowed cheekbones, gasping when he shifts his hips just a little further, hitting the back of Louis’ throat. He swears softly, his words cut off as he curls forward, his orgasm nearly a tangible thing as it hits him. Louis can feel him trying not to move too much, feel as he clasps Louis’ hand just a little too tight and the way his body collapses once it’s over. He barely makes a sound, just quick, frantic breaths and what Louis is nearly positive is his name. 

Louis pulls off once he’s finished, swallowing and wiping his mouth off with his hand. Harry intercepts him before he can go too far, stroking Louis’ face in his hands, pulling him up for a slow kiss. “I’m going to take care of you, yeah?” He says, pushing Louis’s back down against the seat and curling over him, kissing him deep until Harry is the only thing he can really feel. 

Harry slips a leg between Louis, grinding down against him without breaking the kiss. Louis moans and hopes it’s lost in his mouth, rutting up against his thigh as Harry pins him down with his weight. Louis feels frantic, all bottled up and too warm inside, can only let Harry kiss him as he moves his hips to try and push himself over the edge. 

Harry runs his hands up underneath Louis, cupping the curve of his bum and pulling him even closer so there’s no space between their bodies anymore, so Louis can’t breathe without breathing in Harry.

He squeezes his eyes shut, letting Harry grind his thigh up against Louis’ cock as he comes, pushing him through it. 

“You okay?” Harry asks him quietly, kissing the side of his jaw and relaxing against his body.

Louis nods, pushing his hair out his face and trying to get his breathing in order. “Yeah, shit, wow yeah.”

“Nice full sentence.” Harry says, kissing him again, this time on the lips.

“How are you so literate right now?” Louis whines, kissing up Harry’s neck. He isn’t sure there’s ever going to be a time when he doesn’t want to kiss him. “Do I need to get off again to make you stop being so self satisfied?”

“That would probably make me more self satisfied.” Harry replies, nudging his face into Louis’ neck.

“Shut up.” Louis replies, tracing patterns on his back. “How long do we have before people come back?”

Harry heaves himself up. “I don’t know. You need pants, yes?”

Louis grimaces. “Yes. You could have just sucked me off, been neat about it.”

Harry shrugs, doing up his pants up and clambering into the back. “Yeah but this was more fun. You had mentioned something at one point about being held down, I wanted to test it.”

“Jesus christ.” Louis replies, suddenly wondering if he could manage to recover fast enough to have another go before anyone got back. 

“Here; pants, boxers.” Harry says, tossing them at Louis’ face from the back seat.

“Lovely.” Louis replies, shimmying out of his jeans with only moderate difficulty, and wiping himself clean with his boxers. “Will these fit me?”

Harry shrugs, moving back into the second row of the van with Louis. “They’ll be long probably.”

“I’m not putting on your nasty boxers.” Louis says, pulling the sweatpants up his legs.

“Says the boy who just had his mouth on my dick.” Harry replies, making a face as he retrieves the clothing.

“Crass.” Louis replies, crawling over and tucking himself against Harry’s body. It’s a little chilly in the van, but not enough for him to want to put his shirt back on when Harry’s ridiculously warm body is available for cuddling. 

“Can I ask you a serious question?” Harry begins more quietly, his tone suddenly softer.

Louis nods, looking up at him. “Sure.”

“Would it be wise for me to ask you to come with me?”

Louis doesn’t say anything for a long moment. The answer is no, he knows it is but he knows if Harry asks him that isn’t the answer he’s going to give. It’s too late to back out now, that he and Harry have gone too far to leave it like this. “Why don’t you ask me and find out?”

Harry rests his chin on Louis’ head, threading their fingers together. “Will you run away with me?”

Louis smiles, tucking himself into Harry’s side. “Yes. At least for a little while.”

Harry stills for a moment, then tilts his head to press and kiss to Louis’ temple. “We’re going to make this work.”

“I know.” Louis says, because he believes that now. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

“You’ll still be here?” Harry asks, a hopeful note in his voice that makes Louis’ heart twist.

“I’ll be still be here.”

Louis can feel him smile against his hair, and everything feels infinitely more possible. He knows it’s never going to be easy for them, that nothing will ever stay as simple as this moment and this night, but it’s worth it for Harry. It’s worth it for the chance that they could have this, could catch it and keep it.

That chance is more than enough.

It’s everything.

**Author's Note:**

> well i hope everyone like that because it was emotionally exhausting and i teared up writing it like twice because I am the sappiest.
> 
> ok so that's it also if i haven't done your prompt yet I am sorry this fic hit me in the face its not my fault I'm working on the ziall one right now and I will be getting to the rest of them asap
> 
> every time you leave kudos or comment I will probably come down from your ceiling and hand you a big yellow sunflower of gratitude.


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